Dive
by writingforthesoul
Summary: I hear a soft groan next to me. That I don't remember. Movie-like, I lift up my sheets a little to reveal what's underneath. Or what isn't. I have no idea who she is, though I immediately knew who she is not.
1. Chapter 1

I wake up to a pounding headache, as the sun hit my face.

I squint my eyes trying to recall the events of the previous night.

The last couple of weeks had been rough for numerous reasons and this headache is really not helping.

I remember going to Molly's after closing the case.

I remember all of us sitting around our regular table.

I remember Firehouse 51 joining us at some point.

As I get up to get a glass of water, I hear a soft groan next to me. That I don't remember. Movie-like, I lift up my sheets a little to reveal what's underneath. Or what isn't.

"Shit", I mumble as I look at the body next to me.

My eyes wander from the brown hair to the clock that is standing on the night stand.

"Shit", I repeat myself louder than intended.

I can see the woman next to me bringing one hand up to her head, while her other hand falls down on my side of the bed, landing right next to my head.

My guess is, she was trying to hit me.

I put on a shirt and walk around the bed, trying to figure out who is still laying in it.

Since I can't make out her face, I head to the kitchen, figuring she had to wake up at some point.

I gulp a glass of water with my Aspirin and decide to make some coffee as I wait for the pain killers to do their wonders.

 ** _'_** ** _What did you do?'_** is the only thing roaming around in my head. It has barely been two weeks since… My thoughts get interrupted as I hear footsteps coming closer.

I am not entirely sure whether I want to know who it is. I have no idea who it could be, though I immediately knew who it was _not_.

"Oh god." I exclaim as I turn around and look at the woman standing in front of me.

She looks at me with big eyes, seeming about as surprised as I feel.

"Do we need to talk about this?", she asks with a tone in her voice that I can't quite define. "I mean, I know we do, but do we?"

"Coffee?" I ask back. Maybe we really didn't need to talk about this.

"Sure." she replies, watching me take out a second mug and pouring the brown liquid in it.

I reach over to hand it to her, when I catch her eyes for a moment. She's pretty. It had never crossed my mind before.

"Breakfast?" I question desperate to break the tension.

"Seriously?" she laughs.

"What?", I reply as I chuckle, "It's not like it could get a lot more awkward than this."

"You've got a point there."

It doesn't take me too long to whip up some scrambled eggs and a few pieces of bacon. We really don't have time for this, but I can't possibly just leave the situation like that. I'm really not the kind of guy who would kick her out after a night. On the other hand, I'm also not the guy who would just-

"So, last night?" she starts, interrupting my train of thought, as she takes a plate from me and seats herself on the other side of the counter, opposite from me.

 _ **'**_ _ **What did you do?'**_

"Yeah", is all I can bring out. No matter how hard I try, I can't find a single word to say about it.

"I guess that, um, happened?", she doesn't know what to say either, which is pretty rare, I assume.

From the way she phrases the question, I guess she can't recall last night either.

"Yeah." I say again. I'm trying to decide which is worse, the fact that it happened or the fact that apparently neither of us can remember it.

"What's next?" I ask as I put down our emptied plates in the sink.

"Drop me off at my place, I'll get a change of clothes and I'll see you at work.", she answers me immediately and without thinking twice about it.

 _ **'**_ _ **What did you do?'**_

"Sounds like a plan." I try to smile but fail miserably.

"Don't worry, I won't tell _anyone_.", she states, emphasizing the last word. There's no need to spell it out, I know exactly who she's talking about. After all, I spent my morning thinking about no one else.

"Now, get moving", she adds.

I smile at the light bossiness in her voice. It doesn't really suit her that well.

"Where do you even live?"

* * *

I watch her get out of my car and into her apartment building, before I drive away. I'm going to be so late, but that's going to be alright. I know she will be even later and I know Platt will give her crap for it, as usual.

The entire way to work, I try to remember what happened the night before but none of it comes back to my mind.

As I pull up to the district, I struggle to find a way to get through the day.

 ** _'_** ** _What did you do?'_**

Once I get to the station, I wave Platt 'Hello' and basically jump up the stairs to Intelligence. Everybody else is already there, talking about the new case.

Erin is the first to notice me, giving me a gentle smile.

 ** _'What did you do?'_**

 **AN: Hey there, I haven't written anything in a very long time, so please don't be too hard on me.**

 **Tell me what you think about it. xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So this took a little longer than I intended, sorry. I hope you like it!**

* * *

 ****"How nice of you to join us, Halstead."

"Sorry, Sir." I say, seating myself as far away from Erin as I possibly can.

It just so happens, that the seat I chose is the one right next to Ruzek. I swallow hard.

This morning, I was so focused on how bad I had screwed up, on what I had done and what I had ruined for myself, I didn't even-

"Jay? You hear me?", Hank raises his voice.

My head jerks up as I try to shake my thoughts. "Yeah. I mean, yes. Sir."

"Good. Go!", he orders before turning around and walking back into his office.

As we're walking down the steps, I can hear a taunting "You're late."

Of course Platt would give her a hard time.

"I'm sorry Serge, I just… overslept, you see, last ni-"

"Does _this_ look like a tea party to you?", Platt stops her, motioning to the space between the two of them.

I am quite relieved, though it would have been interesting to hear what she had to say.

"Hey Detective Lindsay", Platt waves at us, meaning only Erin.

I have no idea why the desk sergeant is so struck by her, seeing as she usually detests people, but I absolutely understand it.

How do you not fall for her? I'm not just talking about her smile, which shows off those dimples of hers.

It goes a lot deeper than that. Her wit, her courage, her humor, her bossiness, her strength.

Her way of knowing what to say and when to say it. Her way of raising an eyebrow, implicating all sorts of things.

Just… her.

Erin gives me a questioning look as I get in the passenger seat.

"What's going on, Jay?" Her voice has so much kindness in it, maybe even love. Both of which I didn't deserve.

"Nothing." I say matter-of-factly, regretting it instantly and hoping she didn't catch the bitterness in my voice.

However, the way she looks at me, half puzzled - half hurt, tells me that she did. We stay silent for the entire drive and my mind wanders off.

* * *

Entering my apartment, I couldn't be bothered to take off neither my shoes nor my leather jacket.

I take a beer from the fridge and collapse onto my couch.

All day, she had been trying to talk to me, but I couldn't bring myself to look into the warmth of her hazel eyes.

I take a look around the room, wondering what might have gone down in here a little less than 24 hours ago.

A wave of disgust hits me. _What did I do?_

Honest answer? I have no idea. I woke up in nothing but my boxers, next to a woman that was not Erin Lindsay. The rest doesn't matter, does it?

It doesn't matter, that I can't be entirely sure what happened.

It doesn't matter, that I would never intentionally hurt Erin.

It doesn't matter, that I am not that kind of guy, or at least I haven't been in a very long time.

It doesn't matter, that I love her with everything I have.

None of it matters.

I hear it knocking on the front door. Without even realizing it, I manage to stand up and walk over to the door.

I stop abruptly, cursing myself. _What if it's her?_

"Jay, I can hear you in there.", her voice is raspy in between knocks. "I'm not leaving until you open the door."

Knowing there is nothing I could do to avoid this next part, I surrender and open the door.

Her hazel eyes find my blue and I can feel myself spiraling down.

"Going somewhere?", she asks, looking at my leather jacket before her eyes wander to my shoes.

"I… uh, no.", I say while wondering how a detective who goes undercover regularly could be so terrible at hiding things.

"Did I do something?", her voice sound shaky, maybe even insecure.

I can see it in her eyes, the pain, the hurt, the vulnerability.

I can't help but think back.

"Jay", she calls out. I turn back around, trying to brace myself for what I know will follow.

"I wish it was that easy… you know it's different for me." Right there, my heart breaks.

I close my eyes, just for a second, wishing we could go back to the night it all started.

This was not easy for her, and I knew that.

"I understand" _But I didn't_. "So we'll cool it." _What a fancy way of saying 'we're breaking up'._

"But we'll always have each other's back." I reassure her, my hand still resting on her cheek.

"Always"

"Alright, that's good enough for now." _But it wasn't._

"Jay?", her husky voice brings me back to the present.

"Wha-, no. It's all good. We're good." _But we're not._

"Are you sure? Because you seemed distracted all day and in our line of wo-"

"I'm good. Promise.", I say, trying to give her my signature boyish grin, hoping she doesn't notice my obvious lie.

"Can I come in? I kind of wanted to talk to you." _No._

"I'm sorry, my food's getting cold and I-", I turn around in a half-hearted attempt to find an excuse.

"Never mind.", she sighs under her breath. She's gone before I can fully turn back around again.

I fall back onto my couch and replay everything I can remember from the past 24 hours. This is torture.

I have no idea how much time had passed when I hear another knock on the door. Maybe if I just tell her… but tell her what?

That I probably slept with her best friend but I cannot, for the life of me, remember it?

That before this morning, I was one hundred percent sure I would never do something like this to her?

That I would never hurt her?

The knocking turns into a pounding and I decide to get up, trying to brace myself for what is to come.

As I open the door for the second time that night, my mind won't stop racing. This time I will tell her. I will be brutally honest and I will take the consequences.

I know I had ruined every chance I ever had of getting back together with the woman I loved, but that didn't justify lying to her.

My eyes grow wide as I open the door, her brown eyes not even bothering to look at me when she breaches in.

She comes to a halt in my living room, looking around for a split second before pacing back to me.

"What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk.", she states, lifting her arms and resting her hands on my shoulders.

This was not good. This could not happen.

"Listen, Kim, you can't be here.", I say, the increase of pressure applied to my shoulders letting me know that I don't have a choice.

* * *

 **AN: Let me know what you think! I hope I can find some time to write the next part this week. xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: First of all, I am so very sorry for the wait. School has been keeping me very busy.**

 **Secondly, I know this chapter is super short, I apologize for that as well.**

 **I also couldn't really figure out where this story was going. I hoped for some inspiration from the show but what the hell? I have so many thoughts on the last couple of episodes, I don't even know where to start.**

* * *

Erin's POV

I'm willing myself not to cry as I hit the steering wheel over and over again.

 _Why does everything in my life have to be so complicated?_ I ask myself.

But once I start to really think about it, the answer seems quite simple.

 _Everything_ is not complicated. _I_ am complicated.

I have fucked up yet another good thing in my life and now he doesn't even want to talk to me anymore.

With the way he stalled at the door and lied right to my face, I can't help but wonder whether there was someone else in his apartment. _Another woman_.

Did he meet someone new?

Did he move on? Already?

No. No, no, no. He wouldn't do that to me. He would never do that to me.

After all, he is the only person I can really trust. The only one I can feel safe with.

Aside from Hank, obviously, but that was different.

Anger rises inside me and I can feel a stray tear rolling down my cheek.

If it hadn't been for him, I would be sitting on Jay's couch, eating Chinese takeout, drinking a cold beer.

If it hadn't been for his stupid 'no in-house romances' rule, I would fall asleep with Jay next to me tonight.

If I had just stood up to Hank…

I close my eyes and run my hands through my hair, as if to rid myself of all the thoughts running through my mind.

I shake my head and start the car.

* * *

Once I settle down on my couch with a cold beer, I pull out my phone.

I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea, but I dial the number anyway.

"Hey," The voice on the other end of the line answers.

"Hey yourself." I reply, trying to sound playful.

"Oh Erin," Of course she would catch onto it. "What's going on?"

"He doesn't even want to talk to me anymore." I state matter-of-factly.

"What? I don't believe that."

"I think he moved on." It comes out as more of a whisper.

"Why would you say that?" She sounds surprised.

"I don't know."

"Did he say something like that?" She questions.

"No," I answer quickly. "No, he hasn't. I just have this feeling. Like something's off, you know?"

"I'm sure it's nothing, Erin." I know she is trying to calm me, to reassure me. But it's not really working.

I stay quiet for a while, not knowing what to say.

I try to recall the conversation from half an hour ago.

What was he hiding from me?

Why wouldn't he let me in?

I almost laugh out loud, realizing the irony of that last question. Why wouldn't _he_ let me in? _I_ was the one to push him away. _Every. Single. Time._

"I could talk to him if you want."

"No, you shouldn't. It's fine." I stutter, her offer bringing me back to reality.

"Er-"

"Really, it's cool. I'm not even sure why I called." I cut her off.

"Because I'm your friend and I'm here for you."

I can't help but smile at her words. She really was my friend. Probably my best friend. "Thanks Kim."

I hang up the phone and lean back into my couch.

Taking a swig from my beer, I curse myself for calling Kim.

 _Please don't go over and talk to him_ , I think.

I love Kim, I really do, but she has this helper syndrome.

As a cop, that's a great quality, bit it also means that she always wants to fix things. And I'm not sure if this one can be fixed.

I sit there for at least another hour, just staring at the black screen of my TV, before sleep finally starts to take over.

* * *

"So?" raising an eyebrow, Kim draws out the 'o'.

"So what?" I look up from my paperwork, a look of genuine confusion crossing my face.

"Oh come on, Erin." She looks at me intently. After a moment of silence, she leans against my desk and says, "You can tell me."

"Tell you what?" I am almost sorry for the tone of annoyance in my voice, but Kim is still not giving up.

"Last night?" She says to clarify her question.

"You already know that."

"And then?" Her brown eyes are searching my hazel for an answer. "Nothing else happened?"

"What are you talking abou-?" My question gets cut short.

"Lindsay. You seen Halstead?" Panic rises in me and I'm not sure where to place it.

It's not necessarily the question that is making me nervous.

It's more the tension in Hank's voice that lets me know something is not right.

"No." I turn to look at him, realizing that it came out as more of a question than answer.

Hank huffs as he turns his back to me and starts walking towards his office.

I follow him.

After closing the door, I turn around to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, Erin." He says as he sits down in his chair, his left ankle resting comfortably on his right knee.

"Hank." One word is enough to let him know I am serious.

"Fine, I don't know what it is." He admits.

"Hank." I repeat, this time it's more of a warning than a request.

"Halstead," Hank shifts in his chair, the situation clearly making him uncomfortable.

I can see that he is choosing his next words very carefully.

"He seems to be missing."

* * *

 **AN: Please review and let me know if you have any ideas for this story.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Erin's POV**

 _Missing._

I never knew how much a single word could affect me, shatter me, turn my entire world upside down. Standing here in Hank's office, I start to get an idea. I feel the blood drain from my face as my hands start to shake and my legs feel like they belong to a six year old. I can't trust them to hold me up any longer, so I take out a chair and sit down opposite from Hank.

 _Missing._

There are so many questions forming, none of which come with an answer.

What had happened? Was he in danger?

Danger was nothing new in our line of work.

We put our lives on the line every day, but this was different.

Had he been in danger when I was there last night? Is that why he wouldn't let me in?

A thousand scenarios begin to play in my head.

I shake them off at once.

There is something else that is bothering me.

"He _seems_ to be missing?" I look at Hank in disbelief.

"He might just be out for a morning run."

"Hank." At this point, I almost yell out his name. I know he's just trying to lighten the mood, but this was not the time for one of his stupid jokes.

"His brother called this morning. Apparently, they were supposed to have breakfast together, Halstead never showed. He's not at his apartment. His car is gone."

He continues, telling me that we have absolutely nothing to go on and Jay might turn up any minute. But I stopped listening.

 _Missing._

He is still talking when I finally find my voice again. "So what are we going to do?"

"There's nothing we can do right now, kid."

I'm waiting for him to add something. Waiting for him to say 'There's nothing we can do _legally_ '. Waiting for him to get up and brief the team. Waiting for him to tell me that we will do everything – _anything_ – to get him back.

Nothing.

"You can't be serious."

Before he can even notice the loathing in my voice, his phone rings.

He looks at me, then nods at the bullpen, giving me my cue to leave.

I shake my head as I get up and walk out. I feel like I'm going to be sick as I sit back down in my chair and stare at the papers on my desk.

It was paperwork from the case we had gotten yesterday.

It's by far not the biggest case we've ever worked.

A new designer drug has recently flooded Chicago's high schools, the side effects of which bringing more and more teenagers – kids – to the ER. Just yesterday, a girl had been found unconscious at a club downtown.

Neither narcotics nor the gang unit could find any leads, so the Commander redirected the case to us, knowing Hank would make sure to find the bastard(s) responsible for this.

My head snaps up at the sound of Ruzek's voice. "Morning boss."

Adam's eyes scan the room before adding: "Halstead out?"

"Halstead is taking a personal day." Hank says to the team but I know he means me. He is letting me know that everything is fine and Jay is okay.

I feel relief. A little, at least. It still doesn't sit right with me. Jay wouldn't miss breakfast with Will. He wouldn't just take a personal day without telling anyone and he certainly wouldn't call in this late to tell his boss.

Apparently, I am not alone in this train of thought. Kim, who is filling in for Dawson today, is on edge. I can feel her nervousness without even looking at her.

"In the meantime: Ruzek, Atwater. I want you back at Med. See if that girl can give you some more intel on her supplier. Al, Burgess. You take the schools left on the list. Talk to the principles, get names. We find the dealer, we find the source."

Hank nods, giving the team permission to grab their jackets and head off.

I shoot him a questioning look.

"You go through the footage with Mouse." With that, he turns back around and walks into his office.

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

I hear muffled voices as I open my eyes. Pain pierces through my body and my head is throbbing.

 _Fuck._

This was the second time in two days that I woke up unable to remember what happened. Although this time, memories of the previous night start coming back to me.

The voices get louder and for the first time I can understand what is said.

"But this is not how it was supposed to go."

"Shut up."

"You said nobody would get hurt."

 _Fuck._

I look around, searching the room for a way out or at least a weapon. Nothing.

"I said shut up!"

"Dave-"

"You shut your stupid little mouth right now or-"

"Okay, okay. Sorry. So what now?"

"Now, we buy ourselves some time and then we figure out who this guy is." The footsteps are replaced by the sound of a turning lock.

I can't help but feel relief wash over me as I realize that they don't know I'm a cop and that they're not going to kill me, at least not yet.

Two figures step into the room as the door opens. I immediately know who's who.

Dave, the bigger of the two men and clearly the boss, takes a few more steps in my direction before throwing a phone at me. He takes another step before he pulls out a gun and points it at my head.

"You're gonna call in sick today, you understand?" I look at him, trying to figure out who he is and why the hell he would feel the urge to hit my head with a crowbar and toss me into his trunk. At least that's what I suppose had happened.

My hands are tied in front of my chest, which makes it hard to dial the district's number. At least it gives me a moment to try and figure out what to tell Voight. Maybe if I say something incoherent, something about the case that doesn't make sense, something about how I got hung up on paperwork...

"No funny business." Dave says as I hold the phone to my ear, emphasizing his words by bringing the gun closer to my face.

"Hey boss." I can't think of anything unsuspicious to say that would make Voight realize that I'm in danger.

"Halstead. Your brother ca-"

"Taking a personal day today." Is all I can say before Dave grabs the phone and ends the call.

He tucks his gun into the back of his jeans and turns around.

I try and concentrate on his partner. There is just enough light from the hallway coming in for me to recognize him. It's not a man. It's a boy. A 15-year-old sophomore named Lucas Breverick, to be more precise.

Erin and I had interviewed him yesterday, posing as social workers to not scare the entire student body.

 _Erin._ She must know something is wrong. After all, I was on my way to her place when all of this happened.

The room goes dark again as Dave closes the door, leaving me alone on the hard, cold concrete floor.

There has to be a way out.

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

"Alright, so I pulled the footage of the last two weeks. The video from two nights ago is in right now. Here is that Hannah girl walking in. After that I lose sight of her. There are two more cameras with different angles, though. So we nee-" Mouse stops rambling the moment he really looks at me, knowing that something's off.

"I need you to ping Jay's phone." I say matter-of-factly.

"Wha-" There is no time to clear up Mouse's confusion.

"Just do it." The look on my face is all Mouse needs to know.

Two minutes later he hands me an address and I'm on my way.

* * *

 **AN: I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think! xx**


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